


with all jokes aside

by speedymcmuffins



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Kyoutani is the MVP on and off the court, M/M, Shenanigans, Starring the whole Seijoh team, an abundance of stretching scenes, no angst just good vibes i promise, the team ships iwaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedymcmuffins/pseuds/speedymcmuffins
Summary: Matsukawa and Hanamaki are always up to no good. Everyone on the Seijoh team knows this. However, they’re also dating, a fact which they feel is grossly overlooked by, well, everyone. What the rest of the team focuses on instead is ever-evolving theories about the relationship between Oikawa and Iwaizumi.Being the responsible upperclassmen and excellent friends that they are, Matsukawa and Hanamaki feel it’s their duty to help their clueless captain and vice-captain finally get together. Meanwhile, they can test just how oblivious the other members of the team are to their own relationship. It’s the perfect plan, far better than just telling the team that they’re together. Not that anyone would believe them anyway.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	1. I just think it’s funny how…

In the center of one of the Aoba Johsai gyms was the location of a surprising amount of drama: a volleyball court. There were high school boys scattered around it, warming up for the impending practice. Nobody wanted to get an injury, so they stretched dutifully before moving on to gentle running, then relaxed passes. Most teams would have split into the pairs that would get along best. However, Aoba Johsai wasn’t exactly a normal team. Thus, two boys passed the ball back and forth, the whole time exchanging teasing remarks to accompany it.

“Iwa, you seem a bit tense today. Is something the matter?”

Iwaizumi hadn’t looked tense, at least not to the others in the gym, who were watching them with great interest. But Oikawa possessed an ability to sense the slightest disturbance in his teammate’s mood. The extra sense was heightened when said teammate was also his best friend, who he’d known since they were children.

“No, I’m fine,” Iwaizumi said cautiously. He probably meant to counter Oikawa’s radar with the statement, but unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

Oikawa gasped theatrically. “Iwa, are you having trouble with the ladies?”

Iwaizumi balked. Oikawa wasn’t exactly correct, but he’d gotten pretty damn close. Still, that didn’t mean he was about to tell him that.

“I am not, _Shittykawa_.” He tried to put a good amount of force behind the nickname, but Oikawa just giggled.

“Ooh, what happened to Iwa? Did you get rejected?” Oikawa delivered the ball in an overhand set to Iwaizumi. “Oh! Are you jealous because I’m so popular with girls?”

Iwaizumi drew his hand back and spiked the ball hard at Oikawa. It was a perfect set, after all, who was he to waste it?

Oikawa snapped out of his thinking and yelped, catching the ball before it gave him a concussion.

“Mean Iwa! How could you try and hurt your beloved Captain like this?” Oikawa whined.

“Who ever said you and your crappy personality was beloved, Loserkawa?”

“You’re so mean to me!”

Iwaizumi had, in fact, received a confession from a girl in one of his classes earlier that day. She’d shuffled up to him, nervous and trembling. Iwaizumi waited through it patiently, though before she even started to speak, he knew he wasn’t interested. The problem was not that she wasn’t attractive. He’d worked with her a few times on class projects, so he knew she was quite kind and hardworking, too. He couldn’t place the cause of his disinterest. He supposed he just didn’t consider dating to be an option right now.

Iwaizumi sighed. He’d probably end up telling Oikawa all this later, when he went over to his house to study. It was pointless to hide things from him for extended periods of time, since Oikawa had a knack for weaseling what he wanted out of anyone and everyone. Iwaizumi didn’t need the whole team knowing about the confession, though, because they’d inevitably want to know why he turned her down.

What Iwaizumi did not realize, was that the team could not care less about what happened between him and some girl in his class. They had plenty to talk about without the extra information.

“I don’t know, Kunimi. I mean, they have nicknames for each other,” Watari, the team’s libero, said while he cocked his chin, “and Iwaizumi’s never _actually_ mean to him, that’s just how they talk to each other.”

“Oikawa has nicknames for everyone, doesn’t he?” Kunimi argued.

“I guess.”

“Judging from the way they talk to each other,” Kindaichi piped in, “I still think neither of them has considered it. But they basically already are anyway.”

“Oh please, there’s no way _nothing_ has happened between them,” scoffed Yahaba. He, Kunimi, Kindaichi, and Watari were watching Oikawa and Iwaizumi from the sidelines. While the latter two passed, they did their stretches lazily, in no hurry to interrupt the exchange taking place.

Kyoutani, arguably the team’s most feral member, stretched his legs thoroughly yet aggressively away from the rest of the others. He wasn’t actively participating in the conversation about their captain and vice-captain, yet due to proximity, he heard their theories very clearly. He had quite a few opinions on the matter. Not that he’d ever let the rest of the team know that.

In the corner of the gym behind the cluster of the gossiping boys, Hanamaki and Matsukawa lounged. They were already warmed up and felt physically very ready to start playing. However, they took a few extra minutes today, distracted by the current subject of conversation.

“Are you hearing this?”

“Loud n’ clear,” Matsukawa sighed. “Kindaichi’s kind of got it right, who would’ve thought.” He rolled his ankle a few times, his leg crossed over the other in the shape of a four. The knee of his bent leg rested against Hanamaki’s thigh, but he made no effort to shuffle away. There was more than enough space in the gym to spread further out. They always sat close regardless.

The theories about Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s relationship had been brewing for quite some time. Matsukawa and Hanamaki did not participate in these conversations. It was not because they weren’t interested in the subject; in fact, it was something both of them thought about frequently. Hanamaki and Matsukawa spent a fair amount of time with them outside of school and club activities, so they were well aware of the painfully obvious yet entirely wasted tension their friends possessed. It was because of this that Hanamaki and Matsukawa had accurate insight into their friends' relationship status, something that the others were reduced to guessing about based on their interactions within practice hours. 

“Should we do something?”

“What, get them to realize they’ve been in love with each other for their whole lives?” Hanamaki muttered. “That’s kind of a big project.”

“True,” Matsukawa said, “but I think it’s a waste to not do _anything_.”

Hanamaki nodded, turning his attention back to Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

“Are you guys ready? It’s been fifteen minutes,” called Oikawa from the center of the gym. He and Iwaizumi had paused in their rally of increasingly intense spikes to wonder why the others were taking so long in their warm-ups. Matsukawa got to his feet, helping Hanamaki up as well. They jogged over to join the rest of the team, and practice continued as usual from there.

The topic of Oikawa and Iwaizumi didn’t come up again during practice, being too occupied trying to perfect a few key plays for an upcoming practice match. Exhausted, most of the team hurried home, eager to leave before either Oikawa or their coaches forced them to run one more rep. Iwaizumi insisted they too should head home. Oikawa would have stayed longer; if left to his own devices, he’d stay for hours, hungrily practicing his serves until his palm, lungs, and legs ached.

“What are you going to do if you get hurt again?” Iwaizumi jabbed his finger accusingly at Oikawa.

“I can take care of myself, Iwa,” Oikawa sniffed.

“No, you can’t, you need me.”

Iwaizumi ignored Oikawa’s indignant reply and shoved him out of the gym. He called to Hanamaki and Matsukawa as he left, “After you guys finish cleaning can you lock up?”

“Sure thing, see you guys later.” Hanamaki waved to them as they left, putting the last of the volleyballs into the rolling cart. He wheeled it to the storage closet and helped Matsukawa mop the last section of the floor. It was their assigned day to tidy the gym. They mostly worked in comfortable silence, only breaking it to point out missed spots on the floor.

After finishing their cleaning duties, they locked the doors and headed to the club room. The sky was dark by now, though the school’s outdoor lights dutifully illuminated the short path from the gym. There was a slight breeze, not exactly cold, though it felt so against Matsukawa’s skin. He was still a little sweaty and warm from practicing, and once inside the club room, he relished changing back into his regular clothes. A bath, once he got home, sounded nice as well.

“Y’know what’s funny?” Hanamaki pondered aloud, leisurely peeling off the last of his sweaty volleyball attire, shoving into his bag. He reached for his uniform shirt.

“Hm?”

Matsukawa was leaned against the patch of wall by the door, waiting patiently for Hanamaki to finish packing up. It was always this way. As lazy as Matsukawa’s expression was, he had the ability to change at a freakish pace. Hanamaki used to pull off and stuff his clothes away in a hurry, not wanting to hold up his friend. Now, Hanamaki understood that he truly didn’t mind the wait, for several reasons. So, Hanamaki took his time, as Matsukawa watched him change.

Hanamaki zipped up his duffel, his belongings stowed away. He grabbed the strap and slung it over his shoulder, stepping towards Matsukawa. “It’s funny,” he began again. His steps closed the distance between himself and Matsukawa, who hadn’t pushed off from the wall. “That everyone is talking about Oikawa and Iwaizumi, yet nobody suspects a thing about us.”

He finished the sentence inches away from Matsukawa, who smirked at Hanamaki’s observation.

“Yeah, you’d think someone would’ve picked up on…” Matsukawa paused to gesture a finger at himself and Hanamaki, “this.” 

They took a small moment to appreciate their teammates’ obliviousness, before Hanamaki leaned forward, closing the gap between their mouths. The bag on Hanamaki’s shoulder slipped onto the floor. Letting his head thump softly against the wall, Matsukawa kissed him back. Their lips did not move with any urgency. Instead, they opted for a practiced, slow press. Matsukawa sighed softly out of his nose. It tickled Hanamaki’s upper lip. Besides the slight rustle of clothing being pressed together and their quiet breathing, the club room was quiet.

After a few minutes, Hanamaki pulled away, a smile spread broad on his face. Matsukawa noted that the cheap school-issued lighting in the club room made his hair look more pink than brown.

“I mean, just think if someone saw Oikawa and Iwaizumi doing this. Not that they would be, but still.”

Matsukawa chuckled at the possibility and the sheer uproar it’d cause. A scandal it would be, indeed. Seijoh’s leadership, not only teammates and childhood friends but also dating. A new thought then floated through Matsukawa’s head, his overlarge eyebrows pulling together in consideration. Hanamaki read the change on his features and poked his shoulder gently.

“What’re you thinking about now?”

“I was just trying to figure out what the team would do,” Matsukawa began, evidently giving it a good amount of thought, “if they walked in right now. Like, what would they say?”

Hanamaki twisted his lips, thinking hard as well. “Hm… well, nobody takes us seriously at anything we do. Wouldn’t they assume it’s a joke?”

“Probably.”

Hanamaki’s eyes widened suddenly, a mischievous shine to them. If Matsukawa didn’t know him better, he would have assumed it was the fluorescents above them adding the gleam. But he knew Hanamaki, and he knew how to recognize the spark of an idea when it arrived.

“What if,” Hanamaki said slowly, stretching out the words for effect while the line of his grin spread in correspondence, “we find out just how far we can go with that?”

“Go with what?”

“With them thinking we’re always joking!” Hanamaki’s grin grew fuller, the idea fully forming as he spoke. “I’d love to see exactly how much they’ll overlook us, all while they over-analyze every passing look Oikawa throws at Iwaizumi. It’d be hilarious to test it.”

Finally catching on, Matsukawa’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh my god, yes.”

“So, you’re in?”

“Absolutely.”

Feeling no need to discuss details, Hanamaki picked up the fallen bag and headed outside. As the two exited the club room, the metal door clanged shut behind them. Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s entwined hands swung slightly between them while they walked towards the school gates towards home. A small smile found its way onto Hanamaki’s face, as he noted both the focused heat on his hand and the expansive warmth in his chest. _Who knew it’d be this fun to be in love,_ he mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading the first chapter of my first fic. The other chapters are all around the same length (in the ballpark of 2000 words each). Hope you enjoy the rest.


	2. background characters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PDA test drive.

“Alright, guys! No skipping on stretches, we don’t need anyone getting hurt,” Mizoguchi called to the players from across the gym. He tossed a meaningful look at Oikawa, who pretended to be studying the wall. Mizoguchi sighed. These kids had worked hard today, they always did. As a coach he was glad, but he also couldn’t help but wonder if it was too much sometimes.

At least they seemed to be having fun. Two of the players, in particular.

“Mm, you can push a little harder, Issei.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it feels good— _ah_ , just like that.”

Matsukawa’s hands were lain flat against Hanamaki’s back, and he carefully pushed Hanamaki towards the floor. Hanamaki’s legs were spread wide, pancake-style, his arms splayed in front of him, his chest inching ever closer to the floor as Matsukawa pressed, until—

“Woah, you’re actually all the way flat?”

“Mhm,” Hanamaki grunted, voice slightly strained with the effort he was putting into the stretch. Matsukawa grinned appreciatively. Hanamaki had surprisingly flexible hips, for someone who looked so solid.

The others in the circle with them were doing similar exercises, also paired up to help loosen up after a strenuous day of spiking drills. Everyone on the team had jumped a considerable amount, and wanted to minimize the ache they’d feel the next day. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were tired like the rest of them, and truly were trying to do a good job cooling down. However, they also couldn’t waste a good opportunity.

“Alright, your turn,” Hanamaki said, sliding back into a normal sitting position. He crawled behind Matsukawa while he assumed the position Hanamaki was in moments before. Matsukawa groaned. There was no way he could get into as deep a split as Hanamaki. The muscles running from the insides of his knees all the way up his thighs were already protesting the stretch.

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Issei,” Hanamaki teased warmly, sliding his hands up Matsukawa’s back, before leaning down to whisper in his ear, “I promise to be gentle with ya.”

Matsukawa smirked as he let his head hang. He laid his hands flat on the floor, letting them slide forward as Hanamaki pushed his shoulders down.

“Oh god,” he groaned. Practice really was brutal today. The heaviness in his thighs was beginning to seep into his knees as well.

“Tell me when.”

He didn’t get very far before his muscles began to tense from the strain. A few more inches and they felt pulled taut, like a rubber band that would produce a nice tone if plucked.

“That’s good,” he gritted out, Hanamaki immediately easing up on the pressure. He sighed as he sat back, jiggling his legs around to shake out the tension. The players around them were doing various stretches. Kindaichi laid with a leg twisted across his body, arms in a straight line. His mouth was pressed into a grimace, and Matsukawa could see Kunimi snort quietly at his evident discomfort.

“Rub my shoulders?” Hanamaki requested.

“Sure thing, babe.”

Matsukawa couldn’t see his face, but he knew Hanamaki was grinning at the nickname. Matsukawa began the massage slowly, planting his broad hands over Hanamaki’s shoulders and rubbing his thumbs in even circles. Hanamaki sighed into the touch, leaning back against Matsukawa’s legs, and murmured a quiet, “harder.” From there he dutifully began to push deeper into Hanamaki’s muscled back, seeking out the areas which felt knotted from use. He pressed into a particularly tight spot and Hanamaki’s back arched under his hands. He let out a low groan of mixed pain and satisfaction that definitely could sound suspicious to anyone who heard it. Which was the whole team. He hadn’t bothered to temper the level of the noise.

Kyoutani—who was currently on his back, knee brought to his chest in an attempt to soothe his hamstring—glared at the two of them. He met Matsukawa’s gaze (Hanamaki’s eyes were closed in deep bliss) before turning his head away. Matsukawa wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard him grumble something about them being “too fucking loud.” Nobody else looked over, content with their own quiet routines.

“Aw, Iwa, don’t be a brute!”

Well, everyone else was quiet with the exception of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, that was.

“Stop whining and straighten it.”

“It hurts, though.” Oikawa winced while trying his best to straighten the raised leg that Iwaizumi was holding onto at the heel. Iwaizumi frowned, lowering himself and the leg along with it to the floor.

“Did it bother you during practice today?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Does it hurt or are you fine?”

“Well, both.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi sighed. He pulled Oikawa’s knee guard down and began to massage the area around the knee, firmly yet carefully. “You know it’s okay to take a break, right?”

Oikawa groaned, laying a hand over his brow. “I know, I know.”

“You say that, but you keep overworking yourself,” Iwaizumi chided. His hands continued to work, no hesitation present in the way his fingers smoothed over Oikawa’s skin.

“I know my limits, Iwa.”

“Sure, you do.”

“I do!”

Yahaba shot Watari a meaningful glance, jerking his head in Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s direction. Watari nodded, and a silent conversation between the two ensued. Yahaba snickered at a hand movement Watari threw in, theatrically mimicking Iwaizumi’s gentle touch against Oikawa’s leg.

Hanamaki turned to Matsukawa, then back to Iwaizumi and Oikawa. He shook his head.

“Those two are unbelievable,” he muttered, low enough so only Matsukawa could hear.

***

“Hey, what if—”

“No.”

“Just one?”

“Nope. Wait until we get home.”

Matsukawa held the paper bag away from Hanamaki’s reach as he made one last attempt at grabbing it. Hanamaki sighed. He knew they’d get to eat them all the same once they got to Matsukawa’s house, but right now the fresh scent of cream puffs was wafting through the bag and into the air around them as they walked. It smelled of rain, too; the bushes spilling from yards onto the sidewalk still carried the dew from last night. It clung to the thin threads of a few spiderwebs stuck between the branches. Hanamaki wondered if spiders could smell. If they could, they’d certainly be drooling too. _Could spiders drool?_

“Hey—”

“Nope, gotta wait.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh, really,” Matsukawa drawled, raising his eyebrows at Hanamaki. “You weren’t going to beg me to let you have one before we get home?”

“No!” He insisted. He waited for a beat before continuing, “But can I?”

Matsukawa chuckled, shaking his head. Hanamaki grumbled, though he couldn’t be actually angry. Matsukawa had paid for the bag of treats, after all. And he’d probably let Hanamaki copy his notes later once they started studying.

Matsukawa silently reached for Hanamaki’s hand and he took it easily. The air was a bit chilly, but his skin was warm against Hanamaki’s regardless.

“Hey, Issei.”

“Yeah?”

Hanamaki glanced down at their entangled fingers. “Why do you think the team hasn’t noticed we’re together?”

Matsukawa shrugged and answered simply, “Because they’re idiots.”

“I guess.”

Matsukawa studied Hanamaki’s face. His small eyebrows pushed down slightly, a contemplative frown on his lips. Matsukawa squeezed his hand a little.

“What, are you overthinking things?”

“Not really,” Hanamaki said, though there was an implied ‘ _but…’_ to go along with the statement.

They reached the steps of Matsukawa’s porch and made their way inside, dropping their grip on each other for sake of convenience (it’s a little hard to take off shoes with one hand.)

“We’re back,” Matsukawa called from the entryway.

“Welcome home!” Matsukawa’s mother’s voice floated out from the kitchen. She popped her head around the corner, grinning when she saw Hanamaki. “Hey, Takahiro!”

“Hello, Matsukawa-san.”

“Oh, c’mon,” she scolded lightly, “I keep telling you not to be so polite. Just use my name.”

“Sure, sure,” Hanamaki laughed, following Matsukawa into his room.

Matsukawa set the cream puff bag onto his desk before climbing onto his bed. “My mom loves you,” he pointed out, needlessly.

“Oh, does she,” Hanamaki teased as he flopped face-down onto the bed, next to Matsukawa. Matsukawa’s mother had been overwhelmingly supportive of their relationship since the beginning. Well, even before then: apparently when Matsukawa told his parents that they had started dating, his mother was confused. She thought they had been going out since the first day Hanamaki came over.

He sighed into the blankets. So, some people could tell, after all.

“Still thinking about it?”

Hanamaki lifted his head. His eyes lit up when he realized Matsukawa was holding out a cream puff in offering. He took it and popped it into his mouth whole, humming happily at the taste of the perfectly sweet filling. His expression, eyes closed in bliss, elicited a soft chuckle from Matsukawa.

Treat finished, Hanamaki sighed again. “Just, is our chemistry invisible? Even if the guys on our team are a little oblivious…”

Matsukawa hummed, but let Hanamaki continue without chiming in.

“It’s not like it’s because we’re both boys, either. They’re obviously attuned to that because they talk about Iwaizumi and Oikawa all the time…” he trailed off, settling back down against the bed. He smoothed out a wrinkle in Matsukawa’s blanket idly. Another one popped up where his elbow creased it.

“Are you jealous of all the attention Oikawa and Iwaizumi are getting?” Matsukawa asked, tilting his head.

Hanamaki scoffed, offended at the comparison. “Never.”

Matsukawa fished another cream puff out of the bag, reaching for his pile of schoolwork as well. He set his textbook flat on top of Hanamaki’s back, but he jolted at the sudden weight and it slid off.

“Anyway, it’s not a big deal.” Hanamaki grinned at him mischievously. “We’ll just have to try some new tactics. They’ll get it eventually.”

Matsukawa hummed in assent, and they got to work with their studying. Every once in a while, Hanamaki would nudge him, to signal that he wanted another cream puff. Matsukawa fed them to him, Hanamaki opening his mouth without looking away from his papers. Each time, he’d let out a little noise of satisfaction as he chewed. Matsukawa smiled. He was glad he hadn’t given into Hanamaki’s earlier requests. The wait was worth it.

“Hey, Hiro.”

“Hm?”

“Maybe we’re like Frog and Toad.”

Hanamaki laughed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Matsukawa tugged at the edge of the brown jacket Hanamaki hadn’t taken off. “Y’know, from those kids’ books.”

“Huh?”

“The ones where there’s a frog and a toad, and their names are Frog and Toad. They live together, and eat cookies—”

“Oh, those books. I remember now.” Hanamaki pushed his homework over and scooted so he was pressed against Matsukawa’s side.

Matsukawa nodded. “Maybe that’s the type of relationship we have, instead of one like Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s. Just kind of doing our own thing, in a cottage somewhere in a swamp. And we would have funky bikes, and eat sandwiches by a lake. And cookies once we got home. Or cream puffs, I guess.”

“It’d definitely have to be both,” Hanamaki chuckled. He snuggled a little closer into Matsukawa and loosely wrapped an arm across his stomach, murmuring, “that sounds fun. Frog and Toad have it good.”

Matsukawa set his homework aside as well. He could finish it later. Hanamaki’s head was a comfortable weight against his chest, his breathing even, as if unconscious. Matsukawa ran a hand through Hanamaki’s hair and disturbed the pattern, Hanamaki puffing out a happy little sigh. The ends of his hair were a little choppy from the latest of many unfortunate visits to the salon. Matsukawa didn’t know why he didn’t choose a different place to go.

“Yeah, they have it good,” he murmured, as he and Hanamaki drifted asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever find yourself with some spare time, I’d highly recommend reading both the Wikipedia article 'Arnold Lobel' and the New Yorker article '“Frog and Toad”: An Amphibious Celebration of Same-Sex Love'.


	3. let’s keep it PG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoutani is not amused.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s shoes squeaked against the floor. Despite being on water break, they continued to practice; Oikawa sent nicely arcing sets to Iwaizumi, who ruthlessly smacked the ball down into the opposite side of the court. The loud sound of the volleyballs against the floor echoed around the gym. Matsukawa and Hanamaki sat and watched them, sipping water leisurely. Kindaichi, Kunimi, and Watari lounged twenty feet away, gathered in a loose semi-circle, talking lowly. A few others passed a ball back and forth over in the corner.

Hanamaki sighed, his shoulders sliding lower down the wall.

“Nothing’s working. It might be a lost cause.”

The day had been another in the succession of attempts at getting the team to notice the depth of their relationship. They employed the usual tactics; an arm around the shoulder while in the team huddle, slightly exaggerated and perhaps even lewd-sounding groans as they helped each other with stretches, and pressing against each other as they sat together, leaning comfortably side-by-side. It was far more contact than Iwaizumi and Oikawa ever had, and yet, their teammates still paid no attention to it.

Matsukawa’s perpetually turned-down lips quirked sideways.

“Hm. Hiro, it may be time to accept that the two idiots’ denseness has infected the rest of our team as well.”

“Are you saying we should give up?”

Matsukawa’s eyebrows lifted as he considered something. “Well, there is one thing we haven’t tried.”

“Really? We’ve held hands, made jokes, hugged—oooh, we haven’t—”

“Should we try it?” Matsukawa looked to Hanamaki for confirmation, and he nodded.

Matsukawa leaned in, cupping Hanamaki’s jaw as he pressed a kiss to his mouth.

From across the gym came the sound of someone choking. Matsukawa pulled away and looked towards the source of the sound, finding Kindaichi with comically wide eyes and a slight redness to his face. Sitting near Kindaichi was Kyoutani, who glared over with what could only be described as disgust, perhaps a smidge of disbelief as well. Though, being Kyoutani, it wasn’t that far off from his usual disgruntled look. Hanamaki surveyed their expressions and smirked, pleased that their spectacle wasn’t entirely missed.

“Success,” Hanamaki whispered, before getting to his feet and sauntering towards the huddle of their teammates. Matsukawa trailed a few paces behind him. The sound of spiked balls hitting the floor continued to echo in the background, Oikawa and Iwaizumi unrelenting in their repetition.

“Kindaichi, are you alright?” asked Kunimi, looking only mildly concerned. Kindaichi stopped coughing, his airways finally cleared of the drink he inhaled. His blush hadn’t receded, however, and his eyes darted between the approaching Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and a particularly interesting spot on the gym floor.

Hanamaki gave Kindaichi a good smack on the back as he stepped into the group, forcing an undignified huff out of him.

“Did you forget you’re not a fish, Kindaichi? You can’t breathe while you’re drinking water.”

Kindaichi tossed them both a glare, straightening up. “I know that, thanks. I just wasn’t expecting to see you guys over there…” he trailed off, looking embarrassed again.

Hanamaki pulled a dramatic look of confusion, pulling at his chin. Matsukawa had to stifle a laugh at his horribly feigned innocence, knowing he was buying time to think up a good story. Whatever it was, he would go along with it as best he could. Sometimes Hanamaki got pretty creative.

“Oh!” Hanamaki ‘realized’. “Matsu was telling me about the first confession he received, so being the great storyteller he is, he went for an interactive recreation of the events.”

Matsukawa’s eyes widened minutely. He quickly worked to collect himself as the others looked to him, expecting a response. He nodded solemnly, playing his part.

“For true historical accuracy.”

“It’s up to the youth of today to preserve the memories of the past.”

“Tell that to Inarizaki,” Matsukawa quipped. Hanamaki broke character at that, wheezing out a laugh. Despite usually being the one to instigate pranks and the like, Hanamaki was way too easily amused to keep a poker face for long.

Kindaichi’s face fell into deeper and deeper confusion as they spoke, looking between them with a deeply creased forehead. Now that they were finished with their explanation, Kindaichi shook his head and sighed, mumbling, “Whatever. You guys are so weird.”

“Hm, should you be saying that to your upperclassmen, Kindaichi?”

“What are you guys even talking about, anyway? Are you up to something?” interjected Yahaba, who was eyeing them warily. His caution wasn’t unfounded. More than once, Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s idea of fun had (involuntarily) involved the rest of the team.

Hanamaki grinned before answering, “Don’t worry, Yahaba! We weren’t doing anything we don’t do on a regular old day.” Matsukawa snickered. Hanamaki wasn’t lying, after all.

Yahaba gave up, sensing no imminent danger of a surprise locker gift or ‘chemistry experiments’ being conducted in the yard outside the gym. Kindaichi took another sip from his water bottle, and Hanamaki’s eyes narrowed as he noticed something strange.

“Kindaichi, what is that around your mouth?” Hanamaki pointed to his face, more specifically the white substance on his upper lip.

“Huh? Oh, uh,” Kindaichi quickly wiped his mouth against the fabric on his sleeve, but it was too late. Matsukawa’s eyes widened in horror.

“Was that… Milk?”

Watari and Kunimi were only half-paying attention before, used to Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s antics. At this, though, they looked over. _Milk?_

“Milk?” Oikawa inquired, strolling over. He and Iwaizumi were on their way over to inform them that breaktime was now over, only picking up the last portion of the conversation at hand.

“Kindaichi, no.” Hanamaki was staring at him in horror as the realization dawned on him. He grabbed the bottle out of Kindaichi’s hands, cringing when he was met with room-temperature plastic. “Is it not even cold?”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s— it’s good! It’s not that weird,” protested Kindaichi feebly, as Hanamaki ran to the doors of the gym, stepping outside with the bottle in question. The others followed behind, utterly curious and faces in varying degrees of confusion and disgust.

Hanamaki pointed the bottle into his hand and squeezed, and a stream of lukewarm milk hit his hand.

“Confirmed, it’s warm!”

“Seriously, Kindaichi?”

“Just…why.”

“C’mon guys—”

“Utterly nasty.”

“ _Udder_ ly nasty,” wheezed Hanamaki, clutching at his stomach, milk still dripping off his hand.

The rest of practice was spent doing blocking practice, Kindaichi working twice as hard to defend against both the other team’s plays and the milk-related jabs relentlessly thrown at him. Matsukawa and Hanamaki forgot about their plan for the time, overly content with the hilarious new revelation at hand. While walking home together, however, Matsukawa recalled what Hanamaki had said earlier that day.

“So, smooth job earlier,” he began, nudging Hanamaki’s shoulder. “With the whole ‘recreation of my first confession’ bit.”

Hanamaki’s smile was sly as he slipped his hand into Matsukawa’s.

“Well, I wasn’t lying, was I?”

Matsukawa hummed; the corner of his lips quirked upwards.

“We left out a few of the best parts, but yeah, it went something like that.”

***

It was early on a Saturday morning, too early for Matsukawa’s taste. Hanamaki was good to go as soon as he ate something for breakfast. He often opted for something sugary, for an extra boost. Never caffeine, though: it made him twitchy. Matsukawa, however, never figured out how to shake the grogginess from his skull. Always half-asleep in his first class during the week, and half-asleep in the locker rooms as him and Hanamaki shrugged on their practice gear on Saturdays. He’d wake up a little more at the first sting of a volleyball hitting his palm, but for now, he mumbled softly in response to Hanamaki.

“I think we might have to change tactics a bit,” Hanamaki declared.

Matsukawa blinked. “Huh?” While usually he was fine following Hanamaki’s line of thought, he was less than fully conscious at the moment.

“With our plan, y’know. I think we need to focus on helping Iwaizumi and Oikawa instead.” Hanamaki pulled off his shirt, letting the fabric gather and rest around his elbows as he thought. “I caught Oikawa staring at Iwaizumi the other day. He was looking at him like he was the fucking moon, I swear. It’s getting hard to watch.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him do that a few times,” Matsukawa agreed.

Hanamaki nodded. “I’ll talk to him. Oikawa, I mean. I think it might be a bit weird if we both go and interrogate him.”

“Fine with me.” Matsukawa shed his shirt as well. He reached for his practice jersey, and the door flew open with a loud creak of the old hinges.

Kyoutani looked like he was about to say something, but wrinkled his nose instead. He walked straight to his locker, huffing an annoyed breath in place of a greeting.

Hanamaki glanced discreetly at Matsukawa, and found him wearing the same confused expression as himself. So, it wasn’t just him: Kyoutani was definitely acting strangely. Sure, he may not be the most social and chipper member of the Seijoh crew, but he also rarely was rude for the hell of it.

“Hello to you too, Kyoutani.”

“Good morning.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Hanamaki gasped. “Why so touchy? You’re _way_ more crabby than usual.”

Kyoutani’s glare deepened.

“Seriously, dude, is everything okay?” Matsukawa was beginning to worry there was a death in the family, or perhaps he skipped breakfast, or maybe—

“ _I_ am fine. _You two_ are the fucking problem.”

Okay, Matsukawa was out of ideas now. Genuinely confused, he turned to Hanamaki.

“No, I think I’d recall if we put something in his shoes…”

Kyoutani turned, furious. “Fuck off. I’m pissed ‘cause you’re always being all disgusting with each other at practice.” His eyes were dark as he gritted out, “At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if someone found you two in here fucking.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s eyes widened in sync. This, they were truly not expecting.

“ _Mad Dog_ was the first to catch on?”

“I’m strangely proud of our junior.”

Kyoutani was far from happy to receive their praise, however. His face crumpled in utter horror as he choked out, “Are you fucking kidding me? In the _club room?_ ”

Hanamaki broke out laughing with a hearty wheeze. Matsukawa waved his hands frantically to dismiss what Kyoutani thought they had confirmed. “Oh my god, no—”

“We’d _never_ do it in the club room, I promise—”

Kyoutani wasn’t amused. He fixed a heavy glare onto Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who were still shaking with laughter.

Hanamaki finally collected himself enough to turn to Kyoutani, though his lopsided grin remained while he spoke. “We thought nobody on the team knew we were together.”

“Congrats, you’re the first one.”

Kyoutani huffed out an airy breath, the closest to laughter he typically got. “Of course, everyone knows, it’s fucking obvious.” He turned back to his locker and began to pull on his uniform.

Hanamaki shook his head in mock solemnity. “Unfortunately, Kyoutani, our teammates seem to have selective blindness when it comes to this.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Kyoutani shook his head as he spoke, though his back was turned to them. “Everyone has to know.”

“As far as we know, they’re oblivious. That’s the whole problem, everyone’s always going on about Oikawa and Iwaizumi, who aren’t even together, those idiots,” Hanamaki rambled, shaking his head in annoyance. “Anyway, we thought it’d be funny to see who notices us first.”

“You’re the only one who’s said anything, so far,” added Matsukawa.

“Unless—” Hanamaki’s face lit up. “Have you talked with someone about it? Ooh, who else knows?” He wiggled his eyebrows in excitement.

Kyoutani whipped his head around. Even though Kyoutani’s normal expression could be summed up as the worst case of resting bitch face a teenage boy could have, he somehow always managed to pull up an even tighter glare when the situation called for one.

“On what shitty planet do you think we’re living on,” spat Kyoutani, “that I would bother to talk about your _love life_ in my spare time?”

He was finished changing at this point and stalked out of the club room, the heavy door snapping shut behind him.

“Well, we got one of ‘em.”

Makki hummed thoughtfully. “I never would’ve put my money on Kyoutani, but apparently underneath all that anger is a brain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene of the Milk IncidentTM is unfortunately based on a real-life experience I had while being a soccer camp counselor. To sum up the event: boiling hot summer day. Hotter because of the turf. Uninsulated plastic bottle. Suspicion during a water break. Confirmation from the kid. Curiosity about the temperature. Milk hand. Oh god, it’s so fucking hot.  
> Fun times.


	4. the talk(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two fools get rude (yet surprisingly kind) awakenings.

Oikawa’s face, as he bit into the fluffy milk bread, could only be described as content. The bread really was premium quality, which was exactly why Hanamaki had chosen this particular bakery. They served all kinds of pastries, bread, pies, and rolls, all to Hanamaki’s liking. Oikawa was happy as long as he could get his beloved milk bread, even if it were from a convenience store. Hanamaki’s standards were a bit higher. Convenience store cream puffs couldn’t compete with ones that were freshly baked.

“True perfection, Makki,” Oikawa sighed after he polished off a piece of his bread.

“Right?”

Hanamaki hadn’t brought Oikawa here for the sweets, though. Hanamaki scratched a finger against the fabric of his jeans, back and forth. Why was he the nervous one here?

“So, does your head hurt today?”

“…What?”

“Where Iwaizumi threw the ball at your head,” Hanamaki clarified. He cursed himself silently for the awkward way he maneuvered that.

“Not really?” Oikawa pinched his eyebrows together. “He wouldn’t actually hurt me, Makki. He never throws it that hard.”

Finally. This was something Hanamaki could work with.

“That’s kind of endearing, don’t you think?”

Oikawa stared for a beat, then laughed. “If I told Iwa you called him _endearing_ , he’d beat you up.”

“Seriously, though,” Hanamaki tried again. “Iwaizumi never holds back when he gets into it with me or Matsukawa. Kyoutani, too. You’re getting special treatment.”

“Of course, he doesn’t hold back with Mad Dog, that kid is practically feral.” Oikawa rolled his eyes. “I, however, am a bit more sophisticated—”

“Oh, please,” Hanamaki snorted. “That is not the reason.”

Oikawa sensed the layers in Hanamaki’s response. His eyes narrowed and swept over Hanamaki’s face, searching for an opening.

“Makki,” he said, tone holding an ounce of warning, “what are you trying to say?”

Hanamaki opened his mouth and realized he wasn’t so sure of how to approach this, anymore. What could he say to Oikawa that was both blunt enough to get the point across, yet still somewhat tactful? He swallowed. Maybe he should’ve brought Matsukawa after all.

“Uh, never mind. It’s nothing.” Nice. Very smooth.

“Makki? Is something wrong?” Oikawa’s tone had shifted, concern bleeding through.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Then why—”

“Let’s go to the park,” Hanamaki blurted, standing up. A few of the customers around them glanced over at the sudden movement. A lively, bustling bakery no longer seemed like an appropriate setting for the conversation.

Oikawa’s eyebrows sunk lower, but he stood and followed Hanamaki out the door. The sky was stale-faced above them, covered in an expansive blanket of clouds. Thankfully, the breeze was light and tolerable. Oikawa wasn’t wearing a coat. Hanamaki glanced over to find him chewing on his lip, and sighed.

“I didn’t mean to make you nervous. Sorry.”

“Well, you’re being so serious, it’s not like you,” Oikawa muttered.

They arrived at the park entrance and followed the path. They settled down on a bench in a suitable clearing, devoid of other people apart from the occasional jogger. Oikawa folded his lanky legs on the bench and turned to Hanamaki expectantly.

“So, are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hanamaki cringed inwardly. He really hadn’t meant to make the ordeal so dramatic. “I just wanted to ask you a question.”

“Okay,” Oikawa said slowly. “Just ask me then.”

“Do you have feelings for Iwaizumi?”

Oikawa’s face went through a rapid series of changes. He seemed unable to settle on an emotion. Finally, he stuttered out, “Do I— what are you talking about?”

“Iwaizumi. Your best friend. Do you have romantic feelings for him?” Hanamaki explained, though Oikawa hadn’t really needed that kind of breakdown.

Oikawa shook his head a little and seemed to snap back to the present. “Why would you think that?” he tried to laugh, but it didn’t quite sound incredulous. Instead, it was guarded. _Interesting,_ though Hanamaki.

“Just curious.” Hanamaki shrugged, trying to seem casual. “Have you never thought about it before?”

Oikawa’s mouth pressed into a tense line. “It’s…we’re just friends.” _Bingo._

“So, you’ve thought about it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Oikawa flicked his gaze to the bench, picking at a bit where the paint was peeling from the wood. Hanamaki watched as Oikawa’s fingers worked. Picking, then tossing little chipped fragments to the ground. He wouldn’t meet Hanamaki’s eyes, though he clearly noticed him looking. The corner of his lip was back between his teeth.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.”

Oikawa’s fingers stilled, but his eyes remained on the bench.

“I’ve been friends with you and Iwaizumi for almost three years,” Hanamaki began, leaning into the back of the bench. “I’ve seen how he takes care of you, and the kind of trust you have with each other, and sometimes the way you look at each other is…” Hanamaki trailed off, seeing how Oikawa’s eyes had grown wide. He coughed. “Anyway, it’s okay. For you to feel that way about him.”

Oikawa shuffled his legs. He recrossed them, left over right, this time. Hanamaki wondered if that was healthy for his knee.

“I think we act like normal friends,” Oikawa said, though his tone held little conviction.

“Do you, Oikawa?” He failed to make it sound like a real question. Oikawa finally looked up at him, affronted.

“Well, yeah!” He poked a finger accusingly at Hanamaki. “We don’t act any different than you and Mattsun! You two are close, too.”

Oh, this was too good. Hanamaki desperately fought to control his features, suppressing the grin that pricked his mouth like an itch. He needed Oikawa to take him seriously.

“Oikawa, Issei and I are _dating_.”

Oikawa’s finger dropped to the bench. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Makki,” Oikawa’s face twisted into a pout, “don’t joke around to make fun of me.”

“I’m not kidding,” Hanamaki insisted. He met Oikawa’s stare and held it. Oikawa searched and searched his gaze for an element of humor, but found none. He gaped.

“You and Mattsun? Are dating?”

“Yep.”

“Since when?”

Hanamaki hummed, thinking back. “I think near the end of our first year?”

“That long?” Oikawa blinked, and he cocked his head. “Wait, why… why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Well…” Hanamaki trailed off. It hadn’t ever been his and Matsukawa’s intention to hide their relationship. They had assumed that their friends would notice immediately. Evidently, that had not happened. “We were going to, but it seemed weird to bring up out of nowhere.”

“Still,” Oikawa protested, “you should have said something!”

“Yeah, maybe.” Hanamaki rubbed his neck, feeling a little guilty now.

Oikawa huffed out another breath, readjusting his seat yet again so he could lean back against the bench. After a moment’s silence, the set of his mouth softened, his annoyance faded. He glanced towards Hanamaki.

“It makes sense. You two being together.”

“Yeah.”

Hanamaki looked ahead at the trees and smiled to himself, the lightest of blushes on his cheeks. Oikawa stared, and muttered a quick, “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“You’re in love with him!” Oikawa accused, and when Hanamaki’s smile widened in response, he groaned, “Oh god, how did I not see this sooner.”

Time crawled by as they sat on the bench, the clouds still refusing to let the sun poke through. Oikawa asked Hanamaki a billion questions, pressing for more information on his relationship. Some were simple, generic, and with others, he delved a little deeper.

“Who confessed first?”

“Me.”

“Were you scared?” Oikawa wondered.

“Sure, a bit,” Hanamaki recounted. “I kind of just went for it, though. I was pretty sure he liked me back, which helped. And some part of me knew we’d stay friends, even if he didn’t feel the same.” Hanamaki glanced over. Oikawa had grown contemplative, nodding at Hanamaki’s words while his mind worked over something else.

“Look, I’m always happy to talk about Issei,” Hanamaki began, to which Oikawa sniffed out a laugh. “But there’s probably…other things you’re thinking about.”

Oikawa sighed deeply. “What you said before. It wasn’t entirely false.”

“Oh?”

“It’s all the time.” Oikawa’s voice dropped to a murmur as he admitted, “I think about him all the time. I didn’t really realize what I was doing until recently.”

Hanamaki reached over and patted his shoulder. It seemed he didn’t need to say any more.

***

“Nice job today, guys! Practice tomorrow will be a little later than usual, because…”

The coach’s words became background noise as Iwaizumi sipped deeply from his water bottle. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to listen. He was sure the coach had important things to tell them about the practice match they’d just finished. But right now, he couldn’t listen. He would have to ask Oikawa later what time their practice was moved to.

“Alright, we’re done for today.” _Finally_ , Iwaizumi thought as he stepped out of their meeting circle. The others on the team dispersed, picking up water bottles and stray pinnies. Iwaizumi headed for the bathroom. He really needed to wash the sweat off his face before it dried, plus it’d be good to clear his head. He’d be fine after that, he assured himself. Some cool water is all he needed.

“Iwa, are you going straight home after this?” Oikawa fell into step beside him, a towel slung around his neck. His face was a little red, having played the whole game, but somehow his hair kept its shape in perfect, swishy waves. _A little unfair_ , Iwaizumi decided, _how he can still look good after playing that hard._

“Yeah, probably? Why?”

“Oh, no reason!” Oikawa laughed. Iwaizumi supposed he was going for a carefree sound, but it sounded…nervous. Odd. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, but I have some homework, anyways! So, I’ll just get going,” Oikawa finished lamely, then gave a little wave as he jogged the opposite way.

Iwaizumi sighed. Oikawa had been acting weird lately (way more than he usually did, rather). Like he was hiding something. Great. Another thing to think about.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hanamaki and Matsukawa, heading outside together with bags in hand. Their shoulders bumped every few steps. He frowned. The numbers on their backs were switched. They were wearing each other’s jerseys. Iwaizumi had noticed this earlier in the day, before the match, and it had led to his current jumble of thoughts now. He really needed that cold water.

Pushing his way through the bathroom door, Iwaizumi spotted Kyoutani already at the sinks. He muttered a small greeting as he took up the spot beside him. Dousing his face in frigid water, he allowed himself to mull over his thoughts.

Iwaizumi’s frown pushed lower, mind working frantically as he thought about what he’d seen the past few weeks. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were just messing around today with the jersey switching. They’d always done silly things like that. Little pranks weren’t what was putting Iwaizumi’s brain into overtime right now. It was the looks they gave each other, thrown and caught so naturally in conversation it would be easy to miss if not for the certain warmth they held. It was Matsukawa’s arm slung over Hanamaki, posture relaxed and casual as he stood, his thumb rubbing little circles into Hanamaki’s shoulder. It was the rare soft, rather than goofy, smile that quirked on Matsukawa’s lips when Hanamaki murmured something to him, too low for anyone else to hear. The way one, more often than not, could be found near the other, no matter if it was a school day or not… 

But even those things weren’t too strange, were they? After all, Oikawa and Iwaizumi also had a close friendship, practically joined at the hip since they’d known how to walk.

Iwaizumi glanced over at Kyoutani. 

“Hey, Kyoutani.”

A grunt from the perpetually scowling boy let Iwaizumi know he was listening.

“Have you noticed anything different about Hanamaki and Matsukawa lately?”

Kyoutani shot Iwaizumi a disbelieving expression. Iwaizumi shook his head and sighed, realizing that he was about to lose a little bit of the second year’s respect for thinking he’d care, at all.

“Sorry, nevermin—”

“You just now noticed they’re a thing?

Iwaizumi swiveled his head back to Kyoutani, eyes blinking slowly. The gears in his head continued to whirr steadily.

“A ‘thing’?”

Kyoutani rolled his eyes and huffed. Finished toweling off his face, he crossed his arms and leaned back heavily against the bathroom wall.

“They’re together, or whatever. A couple.” Mostly to himself, Kyoutani added, “A couple of idiots.”

Iwaizumi blinked again, not quite believing the situation. Not too many moments ago, he was playing volleyball with his teammates, like he did nearly every day. Now, he was being told by his distinctly antisocial underclassman that two of his best friends, also his teammates, were dating.

“They’re— actually? I thought I was being weird… wait, how did you know?”

“Anyone with eyes could fucking tell if they just looked,” Kyoutani explained, looking like he’d rather be doing almost anything else than having this conversation. Unfortunately for him, Iwaizumi felt this subject was rather important and launched into a new series of questions.

“I saw, I just thought it was them doing what they always do! Wait— unless— have they always been together? And are you positive about this?”

Kyoutani sighed, conceding that it’d be easier to just answer Iwaizumi’s questions rather than prolonging their chat by avoiding it.

“I don’t know how long. I just know it’s a thing. For real. I figured it’s been for a while, lately, they’ve just been extra… y’know.” Dodging the necessity to use the word ‘touchy’, ‘handsy’, or ‘flirty’, Kyoutani gestured with his hands vaguely. “Guess they thought it was funny people were talkin’ about you and Oikawa, but that nobody realizes they’re a thing. So, they’re tryin’ to get noticed. S’pose it’s working if you caught on, finally.”

The day had gotten weirder, decided Iwaizumi. For one, Kyoutani was not fleeing from this conversation. While Iwaizumi understood he was one of the few members of the team that Kyoutani tolerated, respected, and perhaps even liked, he never imagined they’d be talking about _relationships_ together. After mulling over that oddity, Iwaizumi’s brain latched onto a piece of what Kyoutani had just said.

“What do you mean, people were talking about me and Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked cautiously.

“Fuck,” Kyoutani muttered, evidently not meaning to let it slip.

“Kyoutani,” Iwaizumi warned, evidently not about to let it go.

“Fine. Most of the team is betting on if you and Oikawa are dating or not, and even the ones that don’t think you are yet are either saying it’ll be soon or that at least one of you idiots likes the other.”

Iwaizumi felt his lips part a bit in shock, knew how dumb he probably looked staring at Kyoutani right now. But he couldn’t quite collect himself, because _this_ now took the prize for the absolute strangest event of the day.

“Why… would they think that?” Iwaizumi spoke slowly, feeling like he was missing a very important piece of information. “We’re friends? Us? Dating?”

Kyoutani’s face was disbelieving earlier, of the fact that Iwaizumi didn’t figure out Matsukawa and Hanamaki were together sooner. Now, he once again looked at Iwaizumi in disbelief, yet his eyes were somehow softer. For the first time today, he didn’t look like he wanted to kick something.

“Iwaizumi… are you actually stupid? You don’t notice how that idiot looks at you?”

Iwaizumi fumbled, trying to mentally rummage through the past decade-ish of his life, specifically for moments with Oikawa (which, there were a lot). Had Oikawa ever looked at him… in a way that was weird? _Well, Oikawa is always a weirdo, always has been, that’s one of the things I—_

Iwaizumi stuttered mentally, scrambling to make it make sense. The cool porcelain of the sink against his hands did little to ground his thinking. Kyoutani must have taken note of the way Iwaizumi was struggling because he sighed before he went on, unprompted.

“Fuck… maybe, think, if Oikawa went out with a girl, or a guy, would you care?”

“Oikawa has only dated for attention. He doesn’t really like the girls he takes out,” Iwaizumi answered automatically.

“Just, what if he did like the person he’s dating?” Kyoutani’s patience was obviously starting to wear thin, the gruffness returning to his tone.

“I can’t imagine that—”

“Iwaizumi,” Kyoutani growled. “Answer the question.”

Iwaizumi held his gaze for a moment longer, before flicking his eyes to the side.

“Okay, yeah, it’d bother me, because we probably wouldn’t hang out as much,” Iwaizumi huffed.

“Okay.” 

Kyoutani pushed off the wall; he felt the conversation was over, his point made. Iwaizumi, however, was not content with the ambiguity left in his head.

“But— Of course that’d bother me! Oikawa’s my best friend,” Iwaizumi started.

Kyoutani did not let him finish the thought, eyes wide with anger seemingly directed not at Iwaizumi but at the topic of romance.

“I fucking know he’s your best friend, everyone in the whole world fucking knows that!” he growled, standing a few steps closer to Iwaizumi now. “Why is this so hard for you to— Fuck, I cannot _believe_ you’re making me ask this.”

Iwaizumi waited while Kyoutani took a steadying breath.

“Just think about what it’d be like if you were dating. Think about kissing him and if that idea isn’t revolting then that probably means something.”

With that Kyoutani stepped past Iwaizumi, reaching for the door but hesitating to pull it open.

“If you ever think you’re gettin’ relationship advice from me again, it’s not happening. And if you breathe a word of this to the two idiots…”

Iwaizumi nodded weakly. Though Kyoutani had his back turned, he took the silence as agreement. He left the room, leaving Iwaizumi and his distinctly warm face to sift through three new revelations.

One. Two of his best friends were a couple.

Two. The majority of the team was betting on whether he was in a relationship with his other best friend.

And Three. 

He was now thinking about what a relationship with Oikawa would be like. And he didn’t hate the idea, not at all. It should have been the weirdest thing in Iwaizumi’s day— or rather, in his life— but somehow, it really didn’t seem too strange after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your service, Mad Dog.


	5. team bonding, pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa is determined to make this ‘team bonding event’ a good one.

The choice between Pringles and tortilla chips was a difficult one.

“Does it really matter? Both are delicious.”

Well, for Matsukawa, anyway.

“Yeah, that’s the problem.”

“Nobody really brings tortilla chips to parties,” Hanamaki reasoned. “Potato chips are the classic choice. Can’t go wrong with them.”

“People _should_ bring tortilla chips to parties, though,” Matsukawa said, squinting his eyes at the two choices on the shelf. “They’re fucking delicious.”

Hanamaki sighed. “You’re right, they are.”

They bought both.

Tonight was to be a special night for the Seijoh Volleyball Team: a house party, at Oikawa’s place. His parents were out of town for the weekend, and he had been given permission to host a ‘team bonding event’ so he ‘wouldn’t get lonely’. Oikawa had informed the team of this with much enthusiasm, saying nobody was allowed to miss it. Hanamaki envied the amount of leniency and trust Oikawa’s parents gave him. While _his_ parents were away, Hanamaki practically had to swear an oath he’d ‘behave himself’. They were extra suspicious of him now that they knew Matsukawa would undoubtedly be sleeping over, too.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa walked out of the store, snacks in hand, fully ready for a wild night. They’d had team get-togethers before, but this time, almost the whole team said they were coming.

“Hey, you think something’s going to happen with Oikawa and Iwaizumi tonight?” Hanamaki wondered aloud. It seemed like a perfect setting for a drunken decision to occur: a high school party, complete with brewing feelings, recent realizations, and no parental supervision.

“Maybe,” Matsukawa said. “Ever since you talked with Oikawa, things between them have seemed a little different.”

Hanamaki nodded. A good two weeks or so had passed since his chat with Oikawa, and though not obvious, his interactions with Iwaizumi were laced with a different kind of tension than before. It was strange, though.

“It’s not just Oikawa acting weirdly,” Hanamaki noted, “Iwaizumi is too.”

“You think something already happened with them?”

“Who knows. Guess we’ll find out tonight.

Matsukawa knocked loosely on Oikawa’s door once they arrived at his house.

“Mattsun! Makki!” Oikawa cheered, letting them in. “Come on inside, Iwa and I are setting up the snacks and stuff.”

After shedding shoes and coats, they made their way into the kitchen. Iwaizumi was perched at the kitchen island, chopping carrots. There were neat piles of other cut-up fruits and vegetables on a platter next to him. Oikawa resumed his task, which seemed to be preparing the refreshments. Several liter-bottles of soda lined the countertop. A stack of plastic cups sat ready alongside plates and napkins. Something was missing.

“Oikawa,” Matsukawa said, eyes scanning the room, “where’s the booze?”

“Huh? There isn’t any,” Oikawa said.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki glanced at each other, eyebrows similarly drawn in confusion.

“Didn’t you say this was a party?”

“It is! Just not one with alcohol,” Oikawa explained breezily. “I didn’t want to have to babysit the first years when they would inevitably go over their limits.”

“Says the guy with a low tolerance who _I_ always have to babysit,” Iwaizumi muttered, too low for Oikawa to hear.

“Okay, then just don’t give the first years any,” Matsukawa reasoned.

“We could kick them out early,” Hanamaki suggested.

Oikawa shook his head, sighing. “This is why I chose Iwa as vice-captain, he’s way more responsible than either of you two.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa didn’t need to share a glance to know they were both thinking the same thing. _Like you’d ever chose anyone besides him._

“Coming from you, ‘responsible’ sounds more like ‘boring’,” Iwaizumi grumbled.

“I’d never call you boring, Iwa! You’d definitely strangle me or something.”

“You’d deserve it,” Iwaizumi said, heat in his glare. Oikawa’s eyes widened a little under the scrutiny. They held the contact for a few moments until both flicked their eyes to the side, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Uh, anyway,” Hanamaki said, in an attempt to ease the tension. “What _do_ you have planned, if we’re not going to drink?”

Oikawa perked up, grinning. “It’s going to be lovely, Makki, don’t you worry.”

“Wait, so it really _is_ going to be a team bonding event?” Matsukawa said, lips pushed in a familiar half-pout.

“Didn’t you say we were watching a movie?” Iwaizumi asked, looking at Oikawa suspiciously.

“I did, and we will!” Oikawa continued, “but if there’s some extra time for bonding activities—”

“Oh, no,” Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, and Matsukawa all groaned in unison.

It made sense why Oikawa’s parents had so much trust in him.

The door rang, cutting off Oikawa’s rambling about the importance of team dynamics. Oikawa scurried off, leaving the other three alone in the kitchen.

“Uh, there’s something I wanted to talk to you guys about,” Iwaizumi announced hurriedly, looking between Hanamaki and Matsukawa. He set down the knife he’d been chopping carrots with and folded his hands on the table.

Hanamaki almost laughed at the expression on his face; it was a mixture of nerves and determination. It seemed rude, though, so instead, he asked, “Okay, what’s up?”

The sound of the door opening and Oikawa’s cheerful greeting to whoever had shown up seemed to encourage Iwaizumi to get on with it.

“Kyoutan— I mean, _someone_ ,” he said in a rush, not catching his slip-up fast enough, “told me you two are going out.”

“Oh,” Hanamaki said, surprised. He’d thought for sure this would be about Oikawa. And wait, _Kyoutani?_

Iwaizumi looked concerned at the reaction. “You are dating, right?”

“Yes, we are,” Matsukawa reassured him quickly.

Iwaizumi sighed in relief. “Okay, I have a million questions, but I’ll save them for later. Uh, I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you. That you’re together.” He looked at them both as he said it, warmth in his smile.

Hanamaki felt something in his chest melting at Iwaizumi’s reaction.

“Aw, Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa said, grinning. He almost felt the urge to cry. “Thanks.”

The tender moment was broken as voices grew louder, Oikawa and the guest chatting animatedly as they drew nearer to the kitchen.

“…wasn’t teasing you at all, it’s a good thing! Timeliness is a virtue, Kyouken—”

Iwaizumi’s eyes grew panicked at the nickname. He gestured for Matsukawa and Hanamaki to come closer, and quickly whispered, “Please, don’t tell him I told you guys.”

“Oh, but Issei,” Hanamaki began, delight lighting his features, “don’t you remember Kyoutani swearing he was above romance?”

“I do. I think he said, and I quote, ‘In what shitty world would I have time to talk about your love lives in my spare time’, or something along those lines.”

“And yet, here we are,” Hanamaki snickered. “This is too good. Kyoutani, a closet romantic.”

Iwaizumi paled, hissing out a rapid plea as Oikawa and Kyoutani entered, “Please don’t tease him, he’ll know it was me, he’ll lose all respect for me. Then nobody will be able to wrangle him. Please, guys.”

Hanamaki sighed, waving him off with a “Fine, fine.” He, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi straightened to face Kyoutani and Oikawa, who were appraising them with wary faces.

“What are you guys whispering about?” Oikawa asked suspiciously.

“Nothing, really. Hey, Kyoutani,” Hanamaki waved, diverting the attention.

Kyoutani nodded at each of them in greeting, still looking harassed from Oikawa’s praising comments about his timeliness. The doorbell rang again, and Oikawa flitted out again to greet the next guests.

Eventually, everyone who had promised to be there showed. Before long, the party was in full swing, though not in the traditional sense. Someone put music on using Oikawa’s speakers, but it was relaxing indie rock rather than songs with aggressive, thumping bass. The tortilla chips and pringles were equally popular, Matsukawa was pleased to note. Iwaizumi took personal pride in the fact that his fruit and vegetable plate was a hit, as well. In place of alcohol, everyone sipped plastic cups full of either soda or water. That is, everyone except Kindaichi.

“Oikawa, do you have any milk?”

Once everyone’s plate was full and a good amount of time had passed just standing in the kitchen, they moved to the living room. Oikawa grandly proposed karaoke to kick off the activities. There was general agreement, so Oikawa booted up the machine and the singing began. There were some surprisingly good renditions done. Kunimi snuck in a sultry rendition of a classic. Oikawa chose something charismatic, and it was clear that he knew the piece well by how practiced he sounded. Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s performance was ridiculous, not because their singing was bad but because of the song itself. Even Kyoutani participated, and despite his grumbling at the choice of activity and aggressive song choice, he had a pleasant voice.

After a few songs each, everyone’s voices were worn out. They began to rearrange themselves on the couch to settle in for a movie when disaster struck in the form of a spilled glass of water. It soaked a huge patch in the middle of one of the couch cushions.

“I’m so sorry, Oikawa, let me help you clean that up,” offered Kunimi, lingering awkwardly beside the couch with his empty cup while Oikawa dabbed at it with a few paper towels.

“Oh, don’t worry, Kunimi, it happens,” Oikawa waved him off, “plus, it’s just water!” Once he’d done the best job he could, he took the pile of soaked paper towels to the kitchen.

“Um, Kunimi, did your pants get wet?” Kindaichi asked, though it was less of a question and more of a reminder. There was a large and obvious damp spot across both of Kunimi’s thighs.

Kunimi studied his jeans. “Yep. They’re wet.”

Iwaizumi stood from the couch and crossed the room, gesturing for Kunimi to follow him. “Here, you can borrow some of Oikawa’s sweatpants.”

Oikawa poked his head out from the kitchen and pouted at Iwaizumi. “Hey, don’t just invite people up to my room, Iwa! I can go grab those for you, Kunimi.”

“What, why? We hang out up there all the time, it’s not even messy.”

“I’ll just get them,” Oikawa insisted. He started across the room.

“But I know where the drawer is,” Iwaizumi said, not understanding Oikawa’s problem. “I wouldn’t have given him your alien ones; I know those are your fav—”

“Iwa! Stop talking,” Oikawa whined, before he fled the room in embarrassment.

Iwaizumi shook his head at Oikawa’s antics, at first not noticing the significant glances that were being thrown around the room because of their conversation. The room was silent, though, so he glanced up. He was met with the stares of nearly every member of the team.

“What?” he asked, looking from one person to the next. Someone snickered, and that’s when he remembered Kyoutani’s words in the bathroom.

_Most of the team is betting on if you and Oikawa are dating or not, and even the ones that don’t think you are yet are either saying it’ll be soon or that at least one of you idiots likes the other._

_Oh._ Iwaizumi felt his face flush at the realization. He took Kunimi’s empty cup to the kitchen, mumbling, “I’ll get you some more water.”

After Kunimi got changed into Oikawa’s sweatpants and everyone was back in one room, there was a slight issue with space. The soaked cushion rendered a big part of the couch unusable, and they had been sitting packed together to begin with. There were nine of them in total, and some were more willing to share space than others.

“I’m fine with the floor,” Kyoutani declared, sliding to the ground. “But you better not kick my head,” he threatened Kindaichi, who was sitting on the couch behind him. Kindaichi gulped and tucked his feet underneath him.

Watari, Yahaba, Kunimi, and Kindaichi sat together in the middle, avoiding the wet spot, and leaving the ends available for Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa. Even though the boys in the middle were doing their best, there really wasn’t room for two people in each space. Iwaizumi ended up taking a floor spot in front of Oikawa. He knew it wasn’t comfortable for Oikawa to fold his knees so tightly like Kindaichi had, so he didn’t tell Oikawa to move when his lanky legs settled around either side of his shoulders.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa, however, were content to pile together into the cramped space. Neither was small, yet they managed to fit, comfortably entwined.

“Wow, you two look really… we can scoot over to make some room,” Watari offered. He was the one on the other side of Hanamaki, and was eyeing their positioning curiously. Hanamaki, though not sitting directly on him, was practically in Matsukawa’s lap.

Hanamaki chuckled at Watari’s offer before settling his head against Matsukawa’s shoulder and neck.

“I think we’re alright,” Matsukawa said with humor. “He’s kinda like a blanket.”

“God, I love it when you objectify me, Issei.”

“Anytime.”

Watari raised an eyebrow and studied them for a moment. Then, something clicked, and he mouthed a silent _‘oh’_ before turning back to the screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The background music I imagined was something like Hippo Campus, Vampire Weekend, Two Door Cinema Club, etc. 
> 
> In case anyone is interested, here are the songs I imagined the Seijoh boys could absolutely shred at karaoke:  
> Kyoutani: (s)AINT//Marilyn Manson  
> Hanamaki/Matsukawa duet: Everywhere I go//Hollywood Undead (I’d like to stress that they would not be able to get through it without cracking up)  
> Matsukawa: 何なんｗ//Fuji Kaze  
> Kunimi: Sweater Weather//The Neighbourhood, Cough Syrup//Young the Giant  
> Kindaichi: Shut Up and Dance//Walk the Moon  
> Oikawa: Feeling Good//Michael Buble, Death of a Bachelor//Panic! At The Disco, Dental Care//Owl City  
> Yahaba: Classic//MKTO, Electric Love//BØRNS  
> Iwaizumi: Harder to Breathe//Maroon 5,  
> Watari: Love Runs Out//OneRepublic  
> Hanamaki (with choral help from the whole crew): Bohemian Rhapsody//Queen
> 
> I was tempted to write a crazy and chaotic night of partying at Oikawa’s but decided against it for two reasons. One, I am not the party type and therefore felt I would not be able to create a realistic ‘wild’ party ambiance. Two, I think the Seijoh team is full of dorks who would not know how to act at a real party.


	6. team bonding, pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All in all, it was a successful team bonding event.

There didn’t end up being time for designated bonding activities, much to everyone’s relief. Piling together on the couch and doing karaoke until their voices were hoarse had sufficiently bonded them, as far as they were concerned. Still, Oikawa gave a half-hearted attempt to make them stay longer.

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to play a round of—”

“Sorry, Oikawa, my parents wanted me home before eleven,” waved Kindaichi as he shuffled out the door, not at all sounding apologetic. There were several other boys in the foyer, getting shoes on with haste. Ever since Hanamaki told the others what Oikawa had in mind after the movie, they all found various reasons not to linger.

Iwaizumi patted Oikawa on the shoulder. “C’mon, Oikawa, let them go home. We can’t have them too tired for practice.”

“I suppose,” Oikawa sighed.

Their teammates made their way out the door, Hanamaki and Matsukawa being the last to depart. After collecting their leftover snacks, they waved goodbye and left, though not before Hanamaki whispered a sly “good luck” to Oikawa. Matsukawa threw in a knowing grin, too, and then they were gone.

This left Iwaizumi and Oikawa alone, in a house where the air was noticeably charged with something that danced around under their skin, prickling their nerves. Oikawa busied himself with picking up the remains of the party, throwing away the crumpled cups and napkins that littered the living room. After it was spotless, he worked on the kitchen, scrubbing the platters that’d held the snacks. The one Iwaizumi had prepared was sticky with fruit juice. Oikawa scrubbed that one for an extra-long time. The residue just wouldn’t seem to lift.

“It’s still okay if I stay over, right?” Iwaizumi asked, leaning against the countertop while Oikawa worked.

“Of course, Iwa,” Oikawa said. He tried to ignore the way the sticky feeling on his fingers had spread into his chest, but his voice betrayed him, catching a bit in his throat.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, studying the way Oikawa scrubbed at the dishes with fervor. He’d seen this look in Oikawa many times, enough to know it wasn’t a good sign.

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

“Yep, I’m great,” Oikawa lied. He didn’t know why this was happening now. Nothing in particular had happened that night to make his heart beat uncomfortably fast under Iwaizumi’s gaze. Nothing in particular had happened.

Except for Iwaizumi had let him rest his legs around his body while they watched the movie, and halfway through when Iwaizumi had begun to feel his eyes droop, he had rested his head against the inside of Oikawa’s leg, using it as a prop, and Oikawa had made sure to keep it still for him. And Oikawa had glanced down at him, and he looked so comfortable, even though he was on the floor. Oikawa took notice of how Hanamaki and Matsukawa were curled together, and saw the way Hanamaki was absently running a hand through Matsukawa’s hair. He had looked down at Iwaizumi and wished he were even closer, and that instead of being down there on the floor, that he could be Oikawa’s and be in his arms.

And that was just tonight. The past fifteen years were filled with plenty of memories where Oikawa couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have a best friend as cool as Iwaizumi. The past five were when he began to notice that not only was Iwaizumi fun to be around, he was nice to look at, also. The past year was when the thought would cross his mind every so often, _whoever gets to date him is really lucky._ The past few months, Oikawa knew he wanted that person to be himself.

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks now.”

“Yeah?” Oikawa breathed, shutting off the tap. His conversation with Hanamaki floated through his mind.

_Were you scared?_

_Sure, a bit._

“Yeah, you have been. You seem stressed or something.”

_I kind of just went for it, though…some part of me knew we’d stay friends, even if he didn’t feel the same._

Oikawa dried his hands and leaned against the kitchen island, facing Iwaizumi. He found his eyes and they searched his own for clues. The familiar concern Oikawa saw there felt too warm against his skin, so he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Iwa, do you remember when we used to catch bugs together?”

“Yeah, what—”

“Remember how, after you caught that huge beetle, I told you that I wanted to stay friends, no matter what,” Oikawa said, lifting his eyes to meet Iwaizumi’s with a bashful smile, “because nobody was more fun than you?”

Iwaizumi frowned, though a hint of a blush tinged his cheekbones. “Yeah, I remember. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I—” Oikawa faltered, looking down again. “I still want that. I want to keep being friends, no matter what.”

Iwaizumi tightened his grip against the countertop. “Well, yeah, me too. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The air grew thick again, and Iwaizumi’s worry increased. Taking care to drop his voice to a low tone, serious yet soft, he said, “Oikawa, I’m not going anywhere. Whatever it is, tell me.”

The last of the water in the sink bubbled down the drain, washing the last of stickiness along with it.

“I like you, Iwa,” Oikawa said, mustering the last of his courage to look him in the eyes as he said it. “I like you as more than a friend.”

The kitchen was silent for a moment, as Oikawa stared at Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi stared back. His eyebrows pulled together, and Oikawa’s breaths started to quicken when he realized he couldn’t read the expression.

Iwaizumi stood, frozen, for a second or two more, blinked, and then said, “Oh. Me too.”

Oikawa’s breathing stopped altogether, unsure if he’d heard him correctly.

“You…too?”

Iwaizumi nodded, and now Oikawa noticed the color on his cheeks and ears, fully blooming. “Yeah, I think I like you in that way, too.”

“What the hell, Iwa.”

“What?” Iwaizumi glared. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Then what do you mean, ‘What the hell’?”

Oikawa huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s just, I didn’t expect that.”

“You expected me to say no?”

“No!” Oikawa squawked, waving his hands frantically. “That’s not at all what I meant.” He looked towards the kitchen floor and sighed, “I thought it’d be a bit more…dramatic, you know? I was all nervous and everything.”

Iwaizumi studied the way Oikawa’s arms were crossed against his body, and the way his lips were stuck out in a mild pout. He wasn’t meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes and seemed to be working over something in his mind. It didn’t quite make sense, given that he had just successfully gone through with his confession. _Unless…_

Iwaizumi had said _I think I like you._ Oikawa wouldn’t have overlooked the word choice.

“Hey, stop overthinking things. I told you I like you and I mean it.”

Oikawa glanced up at him sharply, eyes widening. “I wasn’t—”

“You don’t think I mean it as much as you do, right?” Iwaizumi guessed, and by the way Oikawa pursed his lips, it was spot on.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just…I can’t tell if it’s the same.” Oikawa looked down at the floor again, and Iwaizumi recognized this side of him. No matter how good Oikawa was at reading into other’s strengths, weaknesses, habits, and intricacies, he never seemed to be able to ascertain whether or not someone truly enjoyed him as a person. Iwaizumi was far too well acquainted with Oikawa’s insecurities, and it was this that made him push off the counter to stand in front of him.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, and then paused, reconsidering. “Tooru. Look at me.”

Oikawa startled at both the usage of his name and Iwaizumi’s proximity. His breath caught when Iwaizumi placed hands on either side of the counter around him, caging him in.

“I’m not at all unsure, I didn’t mean to imply that. I know how I feel about you.”

Oikawa nodded, gaze flicking between Iwaizumi’s eyes and then down to his lips. He swallowed, and mustered a quiet, “Okay.”

Iwaizumi’s heart was wildly speeding through its rhythm in his chest, his palms felt sweaty against the counter, and he in no way felt confident in this moment. That being said, the brown of Oikawa’s eyes looked so rich and sweet, his lips enticing from the lip balm Iwaizumi knew he used. He thought the latest flavor Oikawa bought might have been honey, but he wasn’t sure.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmured softly, yet it was plenty loud for the two of them to hear in their quiet kitchen.

Oikawa eye’s sparked and he nodded. Iwaizumi had, per Kyoutani’s instructions, imagined what this would be like, admittedly quite often. He had kissed a few girls before and liked the gesture, liked the closeness he felt in the moment. It was nice, and when he pictured kissing Oikawa, he thought it’d probably be nice, too.

Iwaizumi’s first thought when he met Oikawa’s lips was that this was not merely _nice_ , this was _right_. They started slow, gentle with the press. Oikawa circled his arms around Iwaizumi’s back, bringing him closer, and opened his mouth slightly, deepening the kiss. Iwaizumi matched his pace. They continued for what felt like a long time, but neither of them would have been able to guess the exact length. When Iwaizumi finally pulled away it was because they both were breathless. Content for now, he leaned back from the counter, pulling Oikawa into a tight hug. Oikawa hummed happily, and Iwaizumi smiled against him. He was pretty sure Oikawa believed him now, and also, he had been right. Oikawa did use honey-flavored lip balm.

***

Later, after they were comfortably settled into bed for the night, Oikawa realized he had forgotten to ask something important.

“Iwa, are we dating now?”

Iwaizumi rolled around to face him. “Yeah? Yeah,” he amended the question, repeating the word with more certainty. “I’ve got no clue how it’s supposed to work though.”

“Because we’re both guys?” Oikawa asked, and Iwaizumi nodded. Oikawa hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then gave up. “Well, I don’t know really know either.”

Iwaizumi laughed. “Whatever, we’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” Oikawa smiled and scooted closer so he could settle against Iwaizumi’s chest. They had never been too mindful of each other’s personal space before, but this was different. Oikawa couldn’t stop the giddy feeling racing through him at the thought that they’d get to cuddle like this all the time, now.

“Should we tell people?” Oikawa contemplated, then grinned. “How about the team?” He could picture everyone’s surprise, their shocked expressions and—

“Oh, no,” Iwaizumi groaned, disturbing his thoughts. “They’re going to be so annoying if we tell them. Everyone already thought we were dating. I think they were betting on it, actually.”

Oikawa sat up. “What?”

Iwaizumi explained the situation: that their teammates had been gossiping about them for months, and had placed bets on the details of their relationship. Oikawa interjected occasionally with indignant noises and huffed about the utter disrespect of their juniors, betting on whether they were dating or not. He found parts of it amusing, though, like when Iwaizumi explained how he knew all of this.

“It was Kyoutani, actually,” he admitted, and for some reason, he seemed embarrassed.

“Mad dog?” Oikawa giggled. “Oh, this is too good, I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, I made Hanamaki and Matsukawa promise not to tease him, because—”

“Wait, wait.” Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Were Makki and Mattsun in on this?”

“Not the betting, no,” Iwaizumi explained, “but I think they’ve been involved, somehow.”

“I’m going to have to get back at Makki for conveniently forgetting to mention that,” Oikawa grumbled against the sheets. “I’m still kind of mad that he— actually, everyone. Everyone seemed to know about our thing before we did.”

Iwaizumi chuckled. Oikawa was cute when he was this kind of ‘mad’, which was closer to slight irritation. When he was actually angry, he was certainly terrifying, with words able to cut deep and a plastic smile that couldn’t conceal the sharpness behind it. But right now, his cheeks were puffed out in a small pout, one that could easily change into easy, genuine laughter.

“To be fair, I can’t blame them for seeing it. I don’t know why I didn’t sooner.”

“See what?” Oikawa asked, a little sleepy.

Iwaizumi ran a hand through Oikawa’s hair, ruffling it affectionately. A smile couldn’t stay off his lips tonight, ever since he’d kissed one off of Oikawa.

“I think I’ve always been a little bit in love with you, you dork.”

Oikawa burrowed into his chest again, wrapping them tightly together. Iwaizumi took that to mean, _Yeah, me too,_ and closed his eyes. He drifted to sleep, with the feeling that what they had now wasn’t something that would change, not if he could help it.


	7. extra club funds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third-years try to tease Kyoutani (a bad idea, really).

Kyoutani lifted his gaze from the gym floor, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The gym floor was admittedly a little bit scuffed, and nobody on the team liked to think about the copious amount of sweat that they weren’t sure ever got cleaned off more than a quick wipe of a rag. Yet, Kyoutani much preferred staring at the questionably hygienic wood while he stretched, to the alternative: seeing two of his upperclassmen sitting side by side, not at all doing the warmups they were supposed to be doing, and absentmindedly knocking feet every few seconds.

It was horrible. Even when they weren’t actively going for the whole ‘let’s get the rest of the team to notice us’ thing, Kyoutani could not fathom how they could ever qualify as subtle.

He didn’t particularly care that they were together. In fact, he thought Hanamaki and Matsukawa, for all intents and purposes, were a good pair. They seemed to make each other laugh enough (though, Hanamaki was _always_ laughing about something, anyway), and Kyoutani didn’t think he’d ever seen them fight before. So, in his eyes, they had a good relationship.

How could they be so _dense,_ though? Kyoutani had always heard that great comedians were supposed to be intelligent. Although he didn’t particularly find them funny, he’d always assumed they possessed some ounce of awareness. Evidently, this was not the case.

The distant sound of doors opening along with bright conversation drew Kyoutani’s attention, yet he was again disappointed when he looked. Oikawa and Iwaizumi walked into the gym, then beelined over to where Hanamaki and Matsukawa sat against the wall. Kyoutani couldn’t quite make out their conversation, yet Oikawa seemed disgustingly chipper, per usual. Their talk grew to be quite animated, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa were grinning like madmen, which usually meant they were up to no good.

Kyoutani kept an eye on them, wary, as he went through his stretches. When Oikawa turned, seemed to spot Kyoutani, and headed straight towards him, Kyoutani struggled to keep his face as neutral as possible. He gave up on that attempt when Iwaizumi, Hanamaki and Matsukawa also made their way towards him. He considered fleeing, but that seemed like an overreaction to his teammates coming to talk to him. He braced himself as Oikawa grew nearer, a teasing light in his eyes.

“Kyou-ken, there you are!”

Kyoutani bit his tongue to keep the ‘ _Where the hell else would I be, it’s a practice day’_ and ‘ _Don’t fucking call me that stupid nickname’,_ from escaping. Desperate to avoid the inevitable spiel from Oikawa about how Kyoutani should respect his upperclassmen, he instead forced out a civil “Yeah.”

“We have some very important news! We decided that we just _had_ to come tell you before the rest of the team.”

Kyoutani really should have run away. He definitely could have passed it off as stomach issues or sudden dehydration.

Oikawa draped an arm possessively around Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Seeing as Kyoutani wasn’t going to ask for the news, he delivered it unprompted. “Iwa and I are dating!”

Kyoutani stared blankly at them, while Hanamaki and Matsukawa clapped theatrically at Oikawa’s announcement. Iwaizumi looked sheepish, electing not to meet Kyoutani’s eye, which was strange. Iwaizumi didn’t back down from anyone. Kyoutani glanced between the other three of them, and his stomach sank when they showed matching airs of mischief.

“Kyou-ken, aren’t you happy for us?” Oikawa asked. There was a knowing tint to the question, and Kyoutani glared straight at Iwaizumi. _That traitor._

“Iwaizumi,” he growled, and the man in question met his gaze only briefly before pressing his mouth into a line that clearly spelled apology.

“Aw, c’mon, Kyoutani! Being a man of romance is a wonderful trait,” Hanamaki teased. “I never would have thought you’d have the _time_ to talk about it, but it’s endearing, really.”

Kyoutani pressed his lips together. Of course, Iwaizumi had told his best friends how he found out about their relationship, and of course, they wouldn’t be able to resist getting on Kyoutani’s case about it.

“We chose you first— well, after Makki and Mattsun, of course,” Oikawa amended, waving them off, “because you so kindly gave Iwa, and by extension, myself, a heads up on all the chatter about our relationship. The others are so disrespectful, really.” He mumbled the last bit, rolling his eyes.

“Someone had to tell you idiots, you were making a fucking fool of yourselves every single day.” Kyoutani couldn’t keep that one in, and Oikawa, as predicted, started lecturing him. Hanamaki and Matsukawa snickered, but Kyoutani wasn’t finished.

“You shitheads shouldn’t laugh at that, you’re just as idiotic.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa smiled wider and fist-bumped, rather than getting offended. Kyoutani took that to mean that his point was entirely lost on them. _Typical._

Iwaizumi shifted under Oikawa’s arm, mumbling “Get off me, Oikawa,” yet making no effort to actually extract himself. While the four of them became distracted and launched into an inane discussion, Kyoutani had time to recall a key part of the conversation that was missing.

None of them had mentioned Kyoutani’s, by his estimate, essential role in Oikawa and Iwaizumi actually getting together.

Kyoutani caught Iwaizumi’s eye, and he raised his eyebrow slightly in question. Iwaizumi shook his head resolutely, face creasing in something akin to embarrassment. Kyoutani supposed it made sense. Telling his friends that Kyoutani was a gossip-informant was a whole lot less compromising for him than letting them know the extent to which Kyoutani had influenced his current relationship with his best friend of over fifteen years.

Which worked out nicely for Kyoutani. He had no intention of anyone else finding out exactly how pleased he was, really, that his rather clueless captain and vice-captain were finally together. He was sure, even though they’d probably fight significantly more than Hanamaki and Matsukawa did, that they would make as sound a couple.

***

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”

One by one, the members of the Seijoh volleyball team shuffled over to the source of the noise. It was the end of practice, and the coaches had gone home, content with today’s hard work. Most of them were not especially in the mood for Oikawa’s ‘announcement’, since this was something that was not uncommon for him. Sometimes it would turn out to be a long strategy meeting, which would undoubtedly be useful for their team, but nonetheless a pain to sit through. Other times it would be something far worse; if he noticed something off about a teammate and the way they meshed with the rest, he would make everyone stay until the kink was worked out. Though, a few times, he had also called for a gathering to discuss things like fluctuations in the number of fangirls that showed up to their last match, to which the others simply refused to stay for.

“What is it, Captain?” Kindaichi asked, with some enthusiasm. He was one of the few who actually enjoyed the strategy sessions.

“I’m sure you’re all positively exhausted, but I have some very important news for you!”

 _Did you find a way for us to beat Shiratorizawa?_ Kindaichi thought.

 _Maybe it’s another magazine feature,_ Kunimi mused.

 _I wonder if he’d stop me from leaving, since I already know._ Kyoutani almost walked away, but he was the tiniest bit curious how the others would react, and that kept him.

Iwaizumi was standing beside Oikawa, face expressionless. If Kyoutani had to guess, this was _not_ his decision. Hanamaki and Matsukawa stood next to them, positioned so they could observe the other’s reactions clearly.

“Iwa and I are dating. We thought we’d tell you all, so you can stop all the guessing and other nonsense.” Oikawa announced the first part with pride, but after speaking he huffed, still offended by his teammates’ actions.

“Oh no, we’ve been found out,” Kunimi intoned, though he was drowned out by the sound of Watari and Yahaba groaning in defeat.

“This _sucks_.”

Oikawa frowned, and even Iwaizumi seemed bothered.

“Do you have a problem with us, Yahaba, Watari?” Iwaizumi raised a threatening eyebrow.

Yahaba waved him off. “Not at all, we just lost some money.”

“If you two had just waited until the last day of the season, we’d be up a few thousand yen,” Watari sighed. He had been so sure the climax of their story would be fueled by the bitter feelings of departure, a confession after realizing what they’d be losing…

“Oikawa, Iwaizumi, I’m sorry I have to ask this,” Kunimi began, though he didn’t really look all that remorseful. “When _precisely_ did you start dating?”

“It’s none of your business!” Oikawa objected, but Kindaichi felt quite differently.

“Was it after our latest team bonding event?” he guessed. Oikawa’s eyes flashed in response and Iwaizumi looked to the ground, saying nothing. Kindaichi grinned and laughed at the other three betters, triumphant.

“I was right! I win!”

Iwaizumi shook his head and mumbled, “I can’t believe you guys have so much free time on your hands.” Matsukawa sniffed a laugh and Hanamaki patted him on the back in mock consolation.

Once Oikawa had lectured them about their gossiping and ‘wasting precious practice time,’ he demanded that the money Kindaichi had earned be used to take the team out for lunch. Kindaichi grudgingly agreed, pressured by Iwaizumi’s glare. Satisfied, Oikawa called an end to the meeting, releasing Yahaba and Watari to wallow, Kindaichi to browse which restaurants around Aoba Johsai were both cheap and highly rated, Kunimi to walk home, unaffected (he had bet on them getting together much earlier, so he had long since accepted defeat), and Hanamaki and Matsukawa to decide their future course of action.

“Can’t believe Kindaichi got the bet right, he doesn’t seem too perceptive.” Hanamaki and Matsukawa made their way towards their houses, hands stuffed in pockets to avoid the nip of the night air.

“Suppose he’s got a special Iwaizumi radar,” Matsukawa reasoned. Hanamaki hummed in agreement. The kid was always following their vice-captain around, asking for tips on serving or whatnot.

“Wait, this means our job is finished, right?” Hanamaki realized. “Oikawa and Iwaizumi are finally together. And now that they told everyone, our initial plan is a little bit lacking.”

_“What if we find out just how far we can go with them thinking we’re always joking? I’d love to see exactly how much they’ll overlook us, all while they over-analyze every passing look Oikawa throws at Iwaizumi. It’d be hilarious to test it.”_

Matsukawa tipped his head back to look up. The stars weren’t very clear against the dark sky, because of the light pollution. He didn’t see any full constellations. Two of the stars stood out, though, burning a little brighter than the rest.

“I mean, we stopped trying a while ago, didn’t we?” Matsukawa looked back to Hanamaki. “Might be time to give up. If they were going to notice, probably would have happened by now.”

“True.” Hanamaki nudged him with an arm. “It was fun while it lasted. We got to try out PDA.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s something we need to keep doing,” Matsukawa laughed. “When I’m kissing you or something, I don’t want to be thinking about how hard Kyoutani is judging us.”

“Agreed.”

“Oh, do you think Iwaizumi and Oikawa will—”

“Not a chance, Iwaizumi would never let him do that in front of everyone. And Oikawa would pop a vein from how much the team would tease him about it.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Matsukawa nodded. He imagined Yahaba would be especially ruthless in his taunts. Kindaichi would probably be kinder, but would for sure exchange a look or two with Kunimi. “Hey, do you think Kindaichi told anyone that he saw us that time?”

“Huh? Oh, you mean that time you kissed me at practice…” Hanamaki considered the scene. Kindaichi had seemed flustered, sure, but he seemed to shake it off pretty easily once Hanamaki had ‘explained’ (lied about) the situation. “He didn’t ask about it or anything, and nobody else did, so probably not. Maybe he forgot.”

“Yeah, probably,” concluded Matsukawa, shrugging. It really didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. Surprising the team would have been fun, sure, but Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s relationship probably still would have been the more interesting one to talk about. Matsukawa supposed he and Hanamaki had enough fun on their own during their little experiment, even without the reactions and opinions of their teammates. They’d be graduating somewhat soon anyway.


	8. unsurprising, really

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the (other) two fools get rude awakenings.

Matsukawa tapped his pencil against the table restlessly in biology, not able to concentrate on the lecture the teacher was giving. It had been like this all day. Matsukawa was usually a good listener and a decent student, but today the words fell through his ears and drifted around without sticking. _I wonder if it will snow_ , he wondered aimlessly as he stared out the window. He caught one of his classmates glaring at him in his peripheral and set down his pencil. It wasn’t like he would be using it anyway; he’d shut his notebook a while ago. He could ask Hanamaki for the notes later.

Practice time rolled around, and Matsukawa made it through as best he could. His blocks were a bit lackluster. He sighed heavily as he sat against the wall for a water break. Hanamaki frowned at him from across the court. After practice ended, he moved sluggishly towards the club room, walking with Hanamaki but not saying anything. By the time they got there, everyone was heading out, leaving the room deserted. As they changed out of their athletic clothes, Hanamaki frowned at him again. Matsukawa was changing slowly. As Hanamaki examined his face more carefully, too, he could see faint bags under his eyes. Rather than laid-back, today Matsukawa looked tired.

“You’re really quiet today. Something up?”

Matsukawa made a noise in response that wasn’t a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’, but it confirmed Hanamaki’s suspicions, nonetheless.

“Your eyebrows are drooping. It must be grave.”

“That’s just how my face looks. You always say they’re lopsided.”

“Nah, today the hairs look like they’re curled downwards. Like tiny little frowny faces.”

“Poetic,” Matsukawa said, finally exhaling a small laugh.

He finally finished changing, plopping down on the bench in the middle of the room rather than taking up his usual place leaned against the wall. The laughter hadn’t quite reached his eyes, still seeming preoccupied. Hanamaki sat down on the bench beside him and put a hand on Matsukawa’s arm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“Seriously though, Issei. Are you okay?”

Matsukawa sighed again as he leaned into Hanamaki’s touch.

“Yeah, I’m just stressed and tired. I didn’t really sleep last night.”

“What’s stressing you out?”

“School.”

“What about it?”

Matsukawa looked at the hand on his arm and watched Hanamaki’s thumb work its way into little patterns over his skin. Some of the tension in his shoulders lessened, Hanamaki’s simple touch enough to calm his nerves. Paired with his gentle tone, Matsukawa felt himself giving in. He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes before he spoke.

“I’m a little behind on studying for entrance exams. I tried to catch up, yesterday, so I was up late. But then I couldn’t sleep, because I started thinking about after we graduate, and if I don’t get into the same school as you…”

He took another steadying breath, opening his eyes to peer at Hanamaki.

“I want to make sure we’ll be able to stick together, in college. If I don’t get in…” He trailed off, frowning at the floor.

Hanamaki swung his legs over so they rested on Matsukawa’s thighs. He wrapped his arms fully around him, burying his head in his shoulder. Matsukawa sighed again, but this time it was with contentment. Hanamaki turned his head a small amount after a moment, so he could speak against Matsukawa’s neck.

“You know I’ll follow you anywhere, right?” The words were soft against Matsukawa’s skin. “Although I know you’ll get into that school. It’ll all work out just fine. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Matsukawa hummed, his fears at least temporarily assuaged by the weight of Hanamaki against his body. Hanamaki pressed a small kiss to his neck. 

“And more handsome. Eyebrows and all.”

Matsukawa huffed at that. It was a running joke of Hanamaki’s that Matsukawa would be the perfect man if he learned how to properly tame his overly large brows. He would respond that as soon as Hanamaki found a better barbershop, he would live up to his own full potential.

Makki pressed another kiss to his jaw.

“Issei?” Hanamaki murmured against his skin.

“Yeah?” Matsukawa breathed. He’d never told him, but Matsukawa loved hearing Hanamaki say his name. It felt…right.

Hanamaki pulled back to properly look Matsukawa in the eye.

“Y’know, I meant what I said about following you anywhere. You’re kind of my favorite person.”

The corners of Matsukawa’s eyes crinkled as a broad smile took over his face. This was the smile that Hanamaki loved the most, more than the lazy grins or sly smirks he usually sported. Matsukawa didn’t smile this way frequently, but Hanamaki knew it meant something that it happened most often when it was just the two of them.

“You’re my favorite too.”

Hanamaki leaned in, eyes closed as he rested his forehead against Matsukawa’s, enjoying the soft intimacy of the moment.

Matsukawa nudged Hanamaki’s nose gently, guiding their lips together. They kissed softly, slowly, completely lost in the moment, not taking in anything else besides the taste of the other’s lips and the sound of quiet breaths, hot against their skin.

It was because they were in their own space, feeling utterly relaxed, that neither of them noticed the long rectangle of light streaming in from the cracked-open door. Neither noticed the several boys lingering in said doorway, until one of them roughly cleared his throat.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki pulled their faces apart, though, still seated entwined on the bench, there was nothing really to be done about the clear intimacy of the situation.

“Um,” was the brilliant commentary that Iwaizumi Hajime, ace of Seijoh, had to offer on the situation. He looked about as embarrassed as both Matsukawa and Hanamaki felt. Beside Iwaizumi stood Kunimi, looking amused, and Yahaba, mouth hanging open. Kyoutani lurked behind them, leaning against the railing.

“Wow.” Yahaba broke the silence, sounding slightly impressed.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki shifted slightly so they were now leaning against the other rather than entangled, their faces flushed and slightly sheepish. Despite their affectionate displays during practice over the past several weeks, neither ever pictured letting their teammates see them being this vulnerable and tender with each other.

“I guess we got to see what’d happen if they walked in on us,” Matsukawa mumbled.

As if summoned from hearing the words ‘walked in on’, Kyoutani roughly shoved past Yahaba and glowered at the couple on the bench.

“What did I tell you guys,” he growled, “about defiling this club room?”

“Kyoutani, I assure you we’ve been strictly PG-”

“Maybe PG-13,” interjected Hanamaki lowly.

“You better not be fucking lying.”

“Language, Kyoutani,” Iwaizumi chided, though it barely sounded stern. After their talk in the bathroom, Iwaizumi frequently questioned if he still held authority over him.

“Can I get through, please?” Kunimi shouldered past the others and over to his locker. He grabbed the lunch bag that was sitting at the bottom, and headed back to the door. “Sorry to disturb you two, just had to grab this. We’ll be off now.”

Hanamaki frowned. “You… don’t seem surprised about this.”

Kunimi stopped to look at him, unimpressed, then back over to Yahaba, who shrugged.

“I mean, we already knew,” Yahaba explained. “Sure, didn’t think we’d find you two here just now, but it’s not that surprising.”

Matsukawa furrowed his brows, confused. “You knew about us?”

“Literally the whole team knows you’re dating.”

“For how long?” Hanamaki asked, indignant. _Did they realize when me and Issei first decided to mess with them, or—_

“A few days after I joined the team.”

“Same.”

“Only took a few days for me,” grunted Kyoutani.

“I think Kindaichi picked up on it a few weeks in?”

“Watari, bless his soul, took until the house party.”

“I think the coaches know too.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchanged a glance, feeling thoroughly thwarted.

“What, did you think we were blind?” asked Kunimi, looking confused now himself.

“Oh my god, they seriously thought we wouldn’t notice?”

“It was way more obvious than Iwaizumi and Oikawa, even.”

“Hey!” Iwaizumi protested, affronted at the jab.

“Though, the PDA has been extra lively lately,” mused Kunimi, ignoring him.

Matsukawa groaned, burying his face into Hanamaki’s shoulder.

Kunimi exited the room, waving a hand behind him. “See you guys tomorrow.” He, Kyoutani, and Yahaba dispersed, but Iwaizumi lingered in the doorway.

“Everyone knew, the whole time,” muttered Hanamaki, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Seems like they did,” laughed Iwaizumi awkwardly. “I guess it makes sense, though.”

Matsukawa perked up suddenly, grinning as he lifted his face off Hanamaki’s shoulder. “Hey, Iwaizumi. Since you didn’t figure it out yourselves, you and Oikawa are officially the densest people on our team. Congratulations.”

Iwaizumi, instead of seeming offended, chuckled in response.

“No, that would be you two.”

They stared at him. Instead of explaining, Iwaizumi just gave a small wave before heading out of the club room.

Matsukawa sighed and re-buried his face into Hanamaki.

“Iwaizumi might be right.”

Both of them felt distinctly dumb, thinking back. It’d always been easygoing between them. They skipped the drama to simply enjoy time together. But their care for each other had always been there to see, even if it was simple. It was in the small jokes Hanamaki whispered into Matsukawa’s ear, getting him to crack a laugh. It was in the way they sometimes skipped through conversation together, not saying some things because they were mutually understood. It was an extra beat Matsukawa spent looking at Hanamaki after he’d proudly delivered a pun, a smile curling on his lips. Matsukawa made a habit of bringing Hanamaki food, remembering all of his favorites. Hanamaki would give him a careful back massage whenever his shoulders ached from practice.

Indeed, the densest members of the Aoba Johsai boys’ volleyball club were none other than Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

Because, really, who did they think were they kidding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started off as a small passing idea due to excessive Seijoh brain rot, but then I couldn’t help myself, so here we are. Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for sticking around until the end!


End file.
